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After one particularly grueling summer of gigs, my voice started cracking.
I went to see a throat specialist. They told me I had nodules--little callouses--on my vocal cords and wanted to operate.
With a laser. True story.
But what if the doc sneezes mid-op and my voice ends up sounding like Foghorn Leghorn?
I told the doctor I wanted a second opinion.
He said, “Well, I think you’re ugly, too!”
JFK. Just Effing Kidding!
I went to see another specialist and they told me they wanted to operate as well. I wasn't feeling it, so I went to see Doctor Number Three.
They looked down my throat, told me I chewed on my left side. Slept on my right side. How they knew all this by just glancing at my epiglottis was rather impressive.
Sad to say, they also saw nodules on my vocal cords.
But instead of operating, they put me on two weeks of total silence. Told me I couldn’t whisper or hum or yell “OUCH” if I stubbed my toe.
So I shut the hell up for two weeks. Complete vocal rest. True story.
It wasn’t easy at first. No singing, no talking, no laughing!
No cooing while cuddling with your snuggle bug.
No yelling at your dog when they pee on your shoe.
No screaming when your server spills hot soup on your genitalia.
And after two weeks of shutmouth?
I went back to see Dr. #3 who told me the nodules were gone!
My voice felt clear. Strong. The cracking had vanished.
But it had been years since that episode so I had the Palm Springs Pipe Doc take a look.
He pulled out a thin rubber hose with a camera on the end. You might want to stop reading now if you’re squeamish…
When he stuck that hose all the way up my left nostril, and down my throat I almost ripped the armrests off the chair.
Pipe Doctor looked at my cords for about 20 seconds while I clenched my fists and tried to refrain from punching a hole in the wall.
When he finally pulled the hose out of my nose he
said my crooning cords were in “excellent shape.”
What a relief!
I drove back to the Slim Shack and sang the anthem over and over in the shower as I scrubbed up for the big game.
I love singing the Star-Spangled Banner. And being from Baltimore, I have a special connection with that song.
Most of us Baltimorons do!
You see, the Star-Spangled Banner was written in Baltimore by Francis Scott Key during the War of 1812.
The British had just burned down the White House. And they wanted to take Baltimore next. So they sailed up the Patapsco River and took aim at Fort McHenry, which guarded the fine city of Baltimore. B-Mo!
Francis Scott Key watched from afar through a spyglass as Fort McHenry got bombed mercilessly all through the night.
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